


How to say I Love You

by foxygrampaglasses



Series: Leading the Lost [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual, Asexual Character, Gen, M/M, ace!Haru, nonromantic intimacy, nonsexual intimacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxygrampaglasses/pseuds/foxygrampaglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Haruka wasn't sure if he'd missed a step in the process, or just been born completely outside of it."</p><p>This is an exploration of love and intimacy, both romantic and not. A collection of MakoHaru centric drabbles. Goes with my fic Leading the Lost Pilotfish (RinTori).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interlude

A man fell in love with a woman. They dated. They kissed. They hugged. They touched places on eachother no one had ever touched, on their bodies and in their hearts. They laughed. They played. They fought. They apologized. They married. They gave each other love and happiness and the passion only the gentle light of the moon had ever known. The passion gave them a beautiful son and when the boy grew into a man, his heart seemed to wake from a long slumber. The man fell in love with a woman, and so the cycle began again.

**" _I love you."_**

Haruka wasn't sure if he'd missed a step in the process, or just been born completely outside of it. He'd thought on several occasions, if only his parents had married for love and not money, maybe he wouldn't be this way. Maybe if he had been born from the passion of lovers under a starlit night sky, he too would have grown into love the way everyone else did.

**" _That's gross!"_**

As far back as elementary school, Haruka had sealed himself away.

**"… _What?"_**

There was something so fundamental about the way everyone around him thought, something so innate that no one had ever bothered to give it a name. Something unspoken, perhaps it was a feeling more than a thought. Something, whatever it was, Haruka did not have.

**" _Boys can't love each other! Don't be gross."_**

Or maybe he was just too lazy to care. Maybe he was just too stupid. Maybe he was too afraid. Maybe he was too ugly. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he'd ruined himself, somehow, some way. He'd done this to himself. No one made any sense to him and he was  _broken_.

**" _There's more than one kind of love."_**

He avoided speaking because he had nothing worth saying. He kept to himself because he was the only one around him who made any sense. He played alone because playing meant nothing to him. He ate alone because no one wanted to sit with the kid who wouldn't talk. Haruka didn't mind, he didn't want to be around them anyway.

**" _Teacher! Nanase is saying he wants to do naughty things to me!"_**

But it was boring and, he had to admit, painfully lonely. The laughter around his classroom at lunch grated on his every nerve. Paper airplanes and chalkboard doodles and squeaky wet sneakers and simple, comfortable conversation all made Haruka's stomach roil. He hated it. He hated all of them. All of them except for Makoto, of course.

**" _No, I said I love you, but I take it back now."_**

As far back as he could remember, Makoto had been the one person Haruka could stand to talk to. He was a shy, gentle soul. He babbled on and on about nothing in particular, miraculously allowing Haruka the conversational space to respond while also comfortably filling the silence Haruka left between them. When Makoto talked, Haruka didn't feel so confused. When Makoto laughed, Haruka didn't feel so broken. When Makoto smiled, Haruka didn't feel so alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation going on in bold there is one that actually happened to me. I told a girl I'd love her even if no one else wanted to sit with her and she got so offended and said I was so gross, she seriously sounded like she was loosing her mind over it. That conversation has never made sense to me.
> 
> I won't be updating this on any schedule, but the chapters are averaging 500-600 words, so it'll probably be fairly often. The next chapter is also MakoHaru centric and will be uploaded in a couple minutes haha.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	2. Hands to Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hands meant to heal hearts.

_**love [luhv]** **noun, verb,** **loved, lov·ing.** _

_**noun** _

_1\. a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person._

_2\. a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend._

_3\. sexual passion or desire._

_4\. a person toward whom love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart._

_5\. (used in direct address as a term of endearment, affection, or the like): Would you like to see a movie, love?_

Haruka frowned, folding the corner of the page in his dictionary. It was late and Makoto had already fallen asleep beside him and he was restless. Makoto had curled up towards the wall, breathing so slow he didn't make a sound. Haruka had lain so still his legs hurt and his mind was racing too fast for him to keep track of what he was thinking anymore. In a fit of frustration, he had crawled out of bed and located his dictionary in the dark. He scooted over by the nightlight that was casting bright stars over his ceiling.

Though he'd read it a dozen times before, Haruka flipped through the dictionary, his heart fluttering with anticipation as if he truly believed the words would read differently this time. He felt a little sick when they read the same as always, confusing as ever. He pinched the edge of the pages, flipping through.

_**af·fec·tion [uh-fek-shuhn]** _

_**noun** _

_1\. fond attachment, devotion, or love: the affection of a parent for an only child._

_2\. Often, affections._

_a. emotion; feeling; sentiment: over and above our reason and affections._

_b. the emotional realm of love: a place in his affections._

_3\. Pathology . a disease, or the condition of being diseased; abnormal state of body or mind: a gouty affection._

_4\. the act of affecting; act of influencing or acting upon._

_5\. the state of being affected._

Haruka was ready to beat his head with this book, maybe then the words would get stuck in his paper cuts and seep into his heart where they always should have been. He felt like screaming and crying and ripping the dictionary apart. It was so  _useless_. He was just too stupid, and he knew,  _he knew_ , if a dictionary couldn't help him, nothing could. He'd been left alone a long time ago, and soon enough, Makoto would leave him too. He'd be alone.

Desperation hummed in his broken heart. He flipped the pages, lips quivering.

_**ro·mance [n., adj. roh-mans, roh-mans; v. roh-mans]** **noun, verb,** **ro·manced, ro·manc·ing, adjective** _

_**noun** _

_1\. a novel or other prose narrative depicting heroic or marvelous deeds, pageantry, romantic exploits, etc., usually in a historical or imaginary setting._

_2\. the colorful world, life, or conditions depicted in such tales._

_3\. a medieval narrative, originally one in verse and in some Romance dialect, treating of heroic, fantastic, or supernatural events, often in the form of allegory._

_4\. a baseless, made-up story, usually full of exaggeration or fanciful invention._

_5\. a romantic spirit, sentiment, emotion, or desire._

Haruka shut the book, and, with both hands, threw it against the wall as hard as he could.

Makoto gasped himself awake, shooting up in bed. Panicked, Makoto's eyes flickered around the dimly lit room, searching for danger. He found none, but, noticing the harsh frown on Haruka's face and the shine of watery eyes, he _feel_ out of danger. Makoto scooted to the edge of the bed.

"…Haru-chan?" He whispered, pulling the blanket aside. Haruka flinched, shadows growing over his face as he turned his head away from his friend. The silence felt ominous, dangerous. It ate up all his words, left him silent and angry and scared and alone. He couldn't tell Makoto. Wouldn't. Haruka snatched a word from his mind before the silence could steal it from him. He whispered it to ears that would probably hear it even if it never left his lips.

"Sorry."

As quietly as he could, Makoto got out of bed. He poked at Haruka's toes with his own, hands folded shyly behind his back. Haruka nodded his head, which Makoto took as an invitation (because it was) and sat beside Haruka. The boys were silent for a long time. Haruka's words were all eaten up, but somehow, the gentle pressure of Makoto by his side seemed to ease the malicious aura out of the air.

"What happened?" Makoto asked, eyes on the dictionary lying on the other side of the room, its pages bent and crumpled. Haruka pulled his knees to his chest, ducking his head out of sight.

"I threw it." Haruka whispered.

"Oh." Makoto said.

Makoto had always known his friend was a bit different. He wasn't sure how, it wasn't anything he could point out specifically. Haruka was just different. He was a difficult person to handle, but Makoto took it all in stride. He tugged lightly on Haruka's sleeve. He waited.

When Haruka lifted his face, hands slipping from his knees to the floor, Makoto tried to act like he didn't see the shiny tear tracks smeared over Haruka's face. But then Haruka hiccupped and his shoulders hunched and his breath hitched.

It wasn't anything but completely natural when Makoto's hand curled around Haruka's.

They didn't say anything about it, and Haruka never told Makoto why he had thrown his dictionary, never told him how safe he felt with Makoto next to him, never told him how scared he was, or how sure he was, that it would go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a clear idea of where this is going (just to be honest). I'm kind of using this as an outlet for my own confusion and frustration with romance/intimacy. Still not sure of my opinions about it, hoping this fic will help me sort it out.
> 
> Unlike Leading the Lost Pilotfish, this is COMPLETELY improvised. No chapter plans. No plot layouts. I'm just writing it as it comes to me. So we're gonna see how well this works out.
> 
> All word definitions were taken from dictionary.com (for all your online dictionary needs holla).
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	3. Home, Sick, Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka can take care of himself, he just chooses not to.

It was horribly unsurprising when Haruka missed nearly a week of school every November, right as the temperature began shifting from cold to colder. Makoto did his best every year to stop what seemed like a tradition, but Haruka was fast and small and he wanted in that pool dammit. Makoto almost regretted getting Haruka interested in swimming, _almost_.

This year Haruka was living alone.

Makoto followed his usual routine, waking up early, eating breakfast with his family, leaving with the lunch his mother prepared for him, and climbing up the stone steps to Haruka’s front door. Of course, Haruka never answered the front door and Makoto never expected him to. This is probably why Makoto nearly screamed when the door did in fact open, after the first knock no less, revealing a rather disgruntled Haruka. He groaned a good morning, clutching his comforter around his shoulders.

“Good morning, Haru-chan.” Makoto returned the greeting, eyebrows pinched together with worry. Haruka slumped against the door, sighing. He looked ghostly, pale with dull eyes. Makoto didn’t hesitate to reach his hand out, brushing away Haruka’s sweaty bangs. Haruka sighed as the back of Makoto’s cool hand pressed against his burning forehead. Makoto frowned.

“Were you planning on going to school?” He asked, but left his hand on Haruka’s head. Haruka shrugged, snuggling his head against Makoto’s hand, desperate for relief from his fever.

“It’s boring here.” He said, his eyes fluttering shut.

“You can’t be serious.” Makoto sighed.

It didn’t even cross Makoto’s mind that he would most definitely get in trouble for skipping school, he just closed Haruka’s front door behind them and shuffled his friend back to his room. Haruka didn’t protest and was happy to fall back into bed. He curled up in his blanket, shivering.

“Have you even taken anything yet?” Makoto asked as he leaned over Haruka, tucking him in properly.

“No.” He said.

Makoto straightened himself, frowning. Haruka looked _really_ sick. He was breathing hard, heavy bags under his eyes. That reminded him, what in the world had possessed Haruka to open the front door so quickly? Being so sick, Makoto would assume that would be more of a reason for him to stay in bed. Makoto shifted his weight on his feet, crossing his arms.

“How long have you been awake?” He asked. Haruka sighed, reaching a hand up from under the covers to rub at the side of his head. He groaned as he searched his sticky mind, feeling distracted and confused.

“Since…2am?” He answered, not entirely certain that was the right answer. It had to be close though. Makoto dropped his hands to his side.

“Alright, I’m getting you some tylenol and water. Be right back!” Makoto said, hurrying into Haruka’s kitchen, but Haruka grabbed him by the sleeve.

“Bring…a mask.” He sighed, letting his weak grip go and tucking his hand back under the blanket. Makoto was heartbroken, but nodded. He left Haruka’s door open so he could hear if he started coughing.

Makoto searched through Haruka’s cabinet, pulling out some tylenol and a thermometer. He carefully took the time to read all the directions and warnings while filling a glass with water. He nearly forgot the mask, not that he wanted Haruka to wear it anyway.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Haruka to keep his germs to himself, Makoto had no desire to catch whatever Haruka had, but there was something painful about seeing Haruka in a mask. It was as if the mask made Haruka’s pain real and unforgettable. It made it harder to believe Haruka would be okay.

When he came back, Haruka was sitting up in bed, blankets around his shoulders and back hunched. He hadn’t been coughing, but maybe he was having trouble breathing. Makoto pressed the thermometer into Haruka’s hand.

“Take your temperature okay?” He asked. Haruka stared at the thermometer, frowning.

“It’ll be cold.” He said. Makoto was not in the mood for Haruka’s pouting. He took the thermometer, tugged on Haruka’s t-shirt and pressed his arm to hold the cold metal. He whined, but held it. Makoto pressed the start button, relaxing.

The silence was a bit awkward. Was there something they weren’t talking about? Haruka wouldn’t look at Makoto.

“How long have you not been feeling well?” He asked. Haruka perked up at this, but didn’t lift his eyes from his hands. He shrugged, an obvious lie.

“A couple days.” He said. Makoto groaned.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked. Again, Haruka just shrugged.

“I thought it would go away.” He said, and Makoto could tell by the relaxed line of his lips that he was being honest.

Silence passed again, this time much more comfortable than the first. Makoto had been startled by Haruka’s out of character compliancy, but knowing he’d been up all morning sick, it made sense. And hopefully it meant Haruka would go back to sleep soon.

Makoto waited for the thermometer to beep before gently placing the glass of water and several tylenol in Haruka’s hands. He frowned, reading 38.1 degrees Celsius.

“Drink it all, okay?” He said.

Haruka was slow to meet his eyes, looking dazed. He nodded and did as he was told. While Haruka slowly worked on sipping his water and taking his pills, Makoto stacked his pillows hoping that the elevation would help him breathe easier. He legitimately worried what would happen to his friend if he weren’t around sometimes.

Haruka handed his glass back to Makoto and pulled the mask strings around his ears, flopping back on his pillows. When Haruka opened his eyes a few minutes later, Makoto was sitting on his floor, easily eye level with him. They stared for a long time.

Haruka was thankful for the mask over his lips, making him hesitate to ask Makoto to go to school. He didn’t actually want Makoto to leave, ever, and he seemed more than willing to stay. It was selfish, but Haruka had a feeling Makoto would have been more hurt if Haruka had actually insisted he leave. Which he was beyond thankful for, consequences be damned.

Maybe it was just habit from when they were kids, but Haruka quietly set his hand on top of the sheets, Makoto took it without question. He held it comfortably and without shame. It grounded Haruka in a way nothing else could, tied him down and kept him from floating away in a sea of his own thoughts.

Haruka closed his eyes, Makoto being the last thing he saw before finally falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I read up on the norms of getting sick in Japan. It's a little depressing. You don't get out of work or school very easily, because a doctor's note is always required (not a parent note, like in America) and those cost money and take a lot of time to get. From what I read, cough syrup doesn't really exist there. Medicine in general is tightly controlled, and advil and tylenol can be hard to find but are sold. Those face masks? Yeah you know what I'm talking about. Those are a courtesy to all the healthy people around you. You wear it to help keep your coughing and nasty germs to yourself. Also, apparently blowing your nose around other people is really rude. Let me be perfectly clear, I've never been to Japan, but I'm making an effort to be culturally aware (laughs bitterly) and what I've described is just what I understand from reading several first hand experiences from people living in Japan. I'm by no means entirely right and would not mind (kind, respectful) corrections if I have the wrong idea (which I probably do, the point is I'm trying).


	4. Yes No Maybe So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka dreams about the boy that made him question everything.

Rin had only been a part of Haruka's life for a year, which, unfortunately for Haruka, was plenty of time for him to worm his way into everyone's hearts. Haruka could write a cleanly worded novel of all the questions Rin provoked.

Chapter one would be  _Am I Gay?_

Haruka spent the night at Rin's on occasion, happy to get out of his house and go somewhere that wasn't overrun with children. Rin had a little sister but she pretty much left them alone. They had a habit of snuggling up on rin's couch and watching movies, with Rin a nervous ball of energy next to a fairly zen Haruka. Haruka thought it was a bit odd, but made up excuses.

Rin had a small personal space bubble, or maybe none at all, Nagisa was like that too. Rin was just overly friendly. Rin was too tired from swim practice to care what he was touching. Rin liked to snuggle, purely platonic.

But none of the excuses stopped the little butterflies fluttering in Haruka's stomach or the warmth of Rin leaning against him or the constant wordless thoughts acknowledging the bliss. Haruka could make an entire world of excuses for Rin, but not himself.

He was having a sexuality crisis.

The second chapter would be  _I'm Totally Gay_ _._

The iwatobi boys were spending a Saturday night together at Makoto's house. It was late, and the tyrant twins had finally fallen asleep. Makoto's parents had set up blankets and a big air mattress in their living room for the boys, but none of them planned to sleep yet. Makoto's eyelids were drooping, but he heroically kept himself sitting upright. They stayed up chatting long after the sun had set. All was well but Nagisa just had to start talking about girls.

Just the topic of romance in general had Haruka in a prickly mood, and Makoto could sense it. He rubbed at his eyes, straightening himself and tried to look at his friend, but Haruka wouldn't meet his eyes. Nagisa cheerfully suggested everyone describe their perfect woman, and of course Rin was first to jump to the challenge. He grinned, leaning towards the center of their messy circle.

"Everyone says big tits are the most important part, but gentlemen, that is a lie!" He said. Nagisa looked particularly surprised, Makoto was blushing so hard it was a wonder the rest of his body was getting any blood, and Haruka tried to pretend like he wasn't listening. "What you really want, is a woman who can cook!" Rin blushed, a dreamy smile on his lips. "I mean, what could be better than getting a home cooked meal every day." He giggled, bouncing on the air mattress.

Haruka was  _burning_  on the inside.

Not so much of a roaring flame, but a sad, slow,  _aching_  burn. Suddenly, Haruka knew their friendship had an expiration date. One way or another, Rin was going to leave him. Haruka was going to lose snuggling on the couch. He was going to lose passionate races. He was going to lose the warmth and fire that he'd only ever seen in Rin, all because Rin was going to pick a person to put above everyone else, and Haruka would never be that person.

The third chapter would just be a key smash and several question marks.

The fear of Rin leaving him eased with team practice, but Haruka's heartache wasn't all forgotten. Everyone's spirits were high, but Haruka still felt on edge. Not that anyone but Makoto noticed.

He was teetering on the precipice between…he didn't know what. He wasn't straight, he felt completely comfortable admitting that now that he'd spent several weeks certain he was gay. When he couldn't handle his thoughts, he'd fill the bathtub with steaming hot water and sink under the calming heat.

The warm water felt like the perfect hug, wrapped gently around his skin. The heat flowed and danced around him, loosening his tightly wound thoughts and drowning his worry. Haruka could stay in the bath for hours, long after the water had cooled, and he'd leave it with something he'd never thought of while in the world of stagnant air. Makoto poked fun at him for it, but the bathtub was a sacred place for Haruka.

After a particularly long soak, Haruka dried himself quickly and threw on several layers of warm clothing. He carefully avoided his parents and snuck back into his room, falling on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, letting the thoughts from his bath float freely.

Haruka was completely content just being allowed to soak in Rin's radiant presence. He liked being around Rin. He liked the feelings he felt around Rin. He liked the competitive passion that only Rin could ignite in him, and he loved the comradery that was the product of Rin recruiting them for the relay. Maybe he wanted something more, but this was enough for him.

Makoto knew Haruka better than that, though.

While walking home together after practice, in a rare moment of courage, Makoto asked.

"Is something wrong, Haruka?" He used his friend's full name, hoping it would get his serious attention. Haruka flinched, but kept his eyes forward.

"No, why?" He asked, frowning lightly. Makoto was quiet for several steps, deciding to change his tactic.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" He said. Haruka glanced at Makoto, the tiniest tint of a blush on his cheeks. He frowned harder.

"Yes I know." He said. Makoto waited, hopeful, but Haruka didn't open up. As much as he trusted Makoto, Haruka wasn't sure he could admit what had been on his mind all year. So confused and tangled and if he tried to say one word, a knot of sentences would tumble out with it and he couldn't be sure what exactly would be in them. He didn't want to risk it.

Haruka couldn't be sure, but the way Makoto was looking at him, he felt like Makoto understood everything he was thinking. Maybe even better than Haruka understood himself.

There was much more to his story than this, but Haruka thought, if he were writing a book, ending the chapter now would be dramatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I think now is a good time to mention that I was just recently (as in, a couple days ago recently) introduced to the aromantic spectrum, and more importantly, a concept that emotions can exist between platonic and romantic. Those feelings, that aren't entirely platonic but not quite romantic either, are all I've ever felt. You can imagine how difficult this makes it to define friendship and romance, or really any kind of relationship, because theres no distinct line in my mind between platonic and romantic. I personally now identify as asexual, WTFromantic (google it). Feel free to message me on tumblr if you want to hear more about my romantic orientation, I'm totally up for discussion.
> 
> So for years I've been under the impression that I was just fickle and couldn't decide what my feelings were, but surprise, your feelings don't have to be strictly platonic or romantic! I feel a lot less like I'm loosing my mind now (haha) and have a lot better grasp on what direction this fic is going. Chapters 6 and 7 will probably be pretty climactic, so watch out!
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	5. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka feels guilty.

When Haruka opened his eyes, his room was dark. He felt a dull ache, both figurative and literal, in his head, and his face felt full of cotton balls. He sighed, his throat dry and scratchy.

He had dreamed about Rin.

It was a memory playing through his unconscious mind like a worn movie tape. Makoto was the only one who had seen how hard Haruka had cried when Rin left. He never did entirely explain himself, and Makoto of course never asked. Haruka feared he didn't have to ask to know.

Haruka rolled onto his side. Makoto wasn't in the room, and Haruka didn't feel like looking for him. There was, however, a glass of water on the desk with a thoughtful, handwritten note next to it. With great effort, Haruka pushed his blankets aside and sat up.

_You fell asleep pretty quickly! I think you're going to be asleep for a while, so I'm going to school! I'll come straight to your place after classes! –Makoto_

Haruka yawned. He could tell even while sitting, he was still pretty dizzy, so he didn't chance a walk around the house. He drank his water slowly, not too eager to chug it on an empty stomach. He swallowed his water a bit too quickly when his door creaked open, nearly choking.

"H-Haru!" Makoto rushed in, patting him on the back. Haruka glared, swatting his hand away. He set the glass back on the table.

"Did you just get out of class?" He asked. Makoto shook his head, sighing.

"I was here for almost an hour trying to make you dinner, but," Makoto grimaced. "I called mom for help but she just told me to come and pick up some left-overs from the family's dinner. I just got back from doing that."

Makoto was too sweet to him, Haruka thought.

"How are you feeling?" Makoto asked, pressing his hand to Haruka's forehead. Haruka shrugged.

"Shitty." He said, closing his eyes and focusing on Makoto's big, cool hand.

Makoto pushed back Haruka's hair, sighing. "Your fever isn't gone, but it's not quite as hot." He said, straightening himself. "Let's eat, okay?" He asked, holding out his hand.

Haruka frowned, but took Makoto's hand.

He was, indeed, rather dizzy and depended on Makoto for balance until he could sit down at the dining room table. Makoto made a gesture and hurried into the kitchen to heat up their dinner. The silence seemed too short when Makoto returned, but Haruka figured his sense of time was a bit impaired. His head sure hurt.

Makoto set a plate of curry and a glass of water in front of Haruka, then took a seat across from him. They poked at their dinner for a while, eating it slowly.

"I didn't ask before, but how'd you get this sick?" Makoto asked. Haruka frowned.

He didn't feel like telling Makoto about his habit to sit in the bath until it was freezing cold would go over too well. Or how he only did that when he was confused, and he definitely wanted to leave out the part about his reason for being confused lately which totally had nothing to do with his platonic-but-also-maybe-more-than-platonic feelings for Makoto.

Haruka pouted, shoved a large spoonful of curry into his mouth. Makoto frowned thoughtfully.

"What aren't you telling me?" He whispered. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself. He certainly didn't sound like he planned for Haruka to answer.

That one little sentence pierced Haruka's heart. Makoto wanted to know so badly what was bothering Haruka, and it hurt him. He wanted to tell Makoto, he'd say it right now if only the floor would stop moving. He put a hand on the table to brace himself, taking a deep breath and then continued to eat.

He would tell Makoto, when he was well again.

Probably.

Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want them to snuggle but we're not quite there yet, SIIIIIIIIGH.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	6. Not

Haruka's confession never quite left his head despite his fever induced commitment to deliver it.

November ended as quickly as it began, and Haruka began to notice tiny absent minded notes accompanying the usual doodles in the margin of his notebook paper. Most of the time, he didn't even remember writing them. Little thoughts that he'd never realized he was thinking littered his notebooks, as if his subconscious was desperately trying to communicate with his conscious mind.

_Makoto looked sad today._

_I might be in love with my best friend._

_I want to make Makoto laugh._

_I told Makoto a cat pun and was afraid he was going to suffocate he was laughing so hard._

_Can we get a cat…?_

_Learn more cat puns._

_Makoto cut his finger and I got to bandage it for him._

_Makoto's cute_

_shit fuck_

_FUCK_

Haruka grimaced as he flipped through his notebooks. A lot of them he'd scratched out, but this was becoming a problem. Makoto was starting to notice Haruka's quiet yet panicked attempts to hide his notes from his friend's eyes.

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to tell Makoto.

Maybe because he wasn't even sure what to tell him. Slumping against the wall of his room, he sighed. He supposed he could just show Makoto his scratched out thoughts, but he didn't know what they  _meant_. And the scary thing was, Makoto probably would. Haruka drew his knees up, threw his notebook to the floor. Maybe that was a good thing though.

But nothing was keeping Makoto with him.

Haruka's chest felt tight, he struggled to breathe even. Makoto had no reason not to leave him. They were friends sure, the best of friends, but Haruka could see the grand, empty pedestal in the hearts around him and Makoto's was no exception. Makoto, like Rin, like  _everyone_ , was waiting to put someone above everyone else. And Haruka would never sit there.

There were things, Haruka was realizing, he could never do, no matter how much he loved Makoto.

And this, he knew, was another reason he was hesitant to confess. Haruka was painfully aware of certain…activities, feelings,  _expectations_  that he would never be able to fulfill. Makoto was beautiful, but Haruka felt no overwhelming urge to touch him. Makoto's mouth looked soft and sweet, but Haruka had never once felt like tasting it. Makoto's heart was precious but Haruka had never needed to dig his fingers into it. He hovered cautiously around Makoto, nervous of everything he did. Could he truly call this love when he had no passion? No spark? No blinding pleasure, not like his classmates spoke of in husky hushed voices during lunch break?

He knew he loved Makoto, but he feared, his version of love would never, could never, match up with Makoto's.

With anyone's.

Haruka was broken and no amount of love could ever make his pieces fit with someone else's.

He glanced at the open notebook, glossing over the various scribbles.

But he could trust Makoto…couldn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LATE UPDATE sorry friends. I've had this written for a while I was just too lazy to format it dang. If I could I would pay someone to do it for me hah.
> 
> So, unlike Leading the Lost Pilotfish, this fic isn't really meant to inform. It's more like, trying to externalize how it feels to be asexual? (at least in my experience). I've been rather grumpy with my relationships because I couldn't put what bothered me into words.
> 
> But if anyone wants resources for information on asexuals, just let me know. Here or on tumblr or whatevs. I got yo' back.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	7. Important

Haruka spent his Christmas break that year with the Tachibanas. It was one of their strange moments of complete telepathy. Neither of them had mentioned it specifically, but operated on the assumption that Haruka would stay with Makoto for the break. When Haruka really thought about it, he realized it was rather impressive.

Haruka hadn't meant for it to slip out so easily, but that's how it was with Makoto. Completely natural.

They were sitting in Makoto's room, huddling under blankets and staring absently at the night sky outside his window, hot chocolate in hand. Haruka's thoughts were surprisingly calm, his eyes sliding away from the stars in the sky to the stars reflecting in Makoto's eyes. It was nearly two minutes before Makoto sighed softly and turned his head, a small jump in his shoulders when he realized Haruka was looking at him. Makoto's eyes darted around the room before meeting his friend's gaze.

"H-Haru…?" He asked with a nervous smile. The usual straight line of Haruka's lips sagged, the corners gently falling downward.

Haruka fished his notebook out of his overnight bag, dropping it on the floor in front of Makoto, open to a page with a number of messy scribbled thoughts. Haruka's eyes fell to the hands in his lap, letting Makoto look over the pages. He didn't look up when he heard the crinkling of turning pages.

"…Why are you showing me this?" Makoto asked. Haruka lifted his eyes, watching Makoto's strong hands very gently close his notebook and slide it towards him. Haruka hesitantly took the notebook into his hands, just to give his hands something to do. He shrugged. He felt sick.

"I'm not sure." He said. Makoto shook his head.

"That's not true." He said. Haruka watched Makoto.

Seconds ticked away as they looked at each other, blue eyes stuck on green. Haruka had expected to feel scared, feared his heart might break through his chest with powerful beating, but Makoto's eyes had a spell in them that lulled all of Haruka's worries and instead guilt washed through his entire being.

Makoto had been waiting for this conversation. Patiently, without putting any pressure on Haruka. He had been waiting, probably for years.

Haruka's lip wobbled, he bit down on it, looked down at his hands.

"I'm afraid you'll leave me." Haruka whispered. His cheeks burned. He couldn't look at Makoto.

There were no words, just the whispers of shifting fabric. Neither one of them initiated anything, but mutually fell against each other, hot chocolate abandoned. Makoto shifted, wrapped his arms around Haruka, pressed a large hand into black hair. Haruka folded himself, snuggled as close has he could.

Makoto was a furnace, blazing hot despite the bitter cold. Haruka pressed his ear to Makoto's chest, listening to his heart flutter and his breath swell.

There was silence for a long time, long enough that Haruka's eyelids drooped and their mugs cooled. They clung to each other. Haruka had to wonder if Makoto had been fighting the same confusion all this time. When Makoto finally spoke, it was fuzzy and echoed like something you might hear in a dream.

"I'm not going anywhere, Haruka."

Haruka would have doubted Makoto had actually spoke if it weren't for the sweet, warm breath tickling his neck.

Haruka was convinced, somewhere deep inside himself, but doubt still clung. He listened to one, two, three thum-thumps of Makoto's heart before he spoke.

"Even if…"  _I don't love you like the people on tv? I don't want to kiss you? I don't feel any passion between us? I'm broken?_

Haruka didn't think he could say it, but Makoto seemed to hear it all anyway.

"I'm not leaving you." Makoto squeezed Haruka.

Haruka didn't doubt that he and Makoto actually could read each other's minds, but perhaps there was some merit to actually speaking about these things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes
> 
> Really frickin' late mERRY CHRISTMAS.
> 
> Things should be picking up next chapter just saying. Maybe. Who really knows.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	8. Cause You Can't Fix What Isn't Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cracks were drawn in crayon and he believed himself full of canyons.

Haruka tried not to admit how much Valentine's Day made his skin crawl.

He felt like he lived in a constant state of frustration, with the media and society scratching at the door trying to get in. Holidays just fed the madness, and it was a wonder that Haruka found the will to stay sane. By some stroke of luck, he'd nearly forgotten about the holiday this year, until a classmate turned around in his chair.

He was speaking to the boy behind Haruka, but must have felt obligated to include Haruka in a conversation he wanted no part of.

"You guys excited for Valentine's Day?" He grinned. His friend replied positively, Haruka stared at his notebook, not interested in the slightest. Haruka took a sharp breath before the words even left his classmate's lips, his mechanical pencil led snapping against his notebook.

"What about you, Nanase? Expecting chocolate from anyone?"

Haruka's eyes didn't move from the doodle blooming from his pencil, now marred. He pumped the pencil's eraser and rubbed it against the mistake, thinking carefully about his answer.

He could tell the truth,  _no_  he truly didn't expect (want) chocolate from anyone. He could imagine the response like the lid to a well-kept jar of secrets, holding in the romantic apathy he'd been fostering since birth. Haruka thought it almost thrilling, how he always skimmed the surface of such a dangerous topic, how at any moment he had the opportunity to just let it out.

He could lie, with a sparkle in his eye and a sakura blossom blush on his cheeks. He could say 'no one really.' He could glare out the window, and the sad thing is his classmate would probably find this behavior believable. He could imagine the whispering ' _see even Nanase gets it_.'

Haruka sighed, trying to keep the disgust off his face.

"No, I don't." He said. Haruka could  _feel_  the sympathetic, guilty look being shared between his classmates.

"Ah, it's okay man. Next year, right?" The boy behind him offered.

" _No_." The word floated out with Haruka's harsh exhale. He chanced a glance upwards, confirming the predictable look of shock. He could see the false comfort hanging from the boy's lips, killed by the scratch of their teacher sliding open the classroom door.

Before Christmas, Haruka would have reveled in that false hope.

_Maybe next year._

Before Christmas, Haruka would have baited it.

_Eventually._

Before Christmas, Haruka would have clung to normalcy with everything he had.

_You can be fixed._

But it was after Christmas and Haruka could still feel the wrinkles of Makoto's hand against his own. It was February and Haruka was starting to believe, maybe, Makoto was the same kind of different as him. It was a new year, and Haruka had begun to realize  _he_  was never the broken one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I encourage people to bother the crap out of me to update this fic, because I will forget.
> 
> Even if you have to say it everyday, even if you don't believe it, you're not broken because maybe you don't feel sexual and/or romantic attraction. Relationships are not any less valid without those elements. It's taken me a long time to come to terms with and completely understand that. It takes time, but it's worth it.
> 
> I've identified as asexual/been on the aromantic spectrum for a lot less time than I've been identifying as male, so my thoughts are still the tiniest bit scattered with sexuality. But I'm getting a better idea of how I want to go about addressing the issues I have faced, and see other asexuals and/or aromantics experiencing! And, of course, it'll probably end up causing both myself and you readers a good dose of pAIN. Stay tuned and good luck.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	9. Little Did He Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're always face up or face down, but never on the same coin.

It was a special burden Makoto had taken upon himself, though he hadn't even been aware of it until his beginning year of junior high.

Makoto felt uneasy, this being the first year Haru and him were in different classes. It was a constant itching in the back of his mind. How was Haru doing? Would he be okay? What if something happens while Makoto isn't there? The worry was nearly unbearable.

The moment class was dismissed that first day, Makoto just about flew out of his seat, a strange magnetism pulling him forward.

He saw the surprised look on Haru's face when not a minute had passed since class was dismissed, and there was Makoto. The emotion disappeared in the blink of an eye, making Makoto doubt it had ever been there in the first place. He was relieved to see Haru acting as usual, but what had been a slight irritation in the back of his mind had turned into a dull ache in his heart.

He tried with everything he had to stomp down on it, but it was a horribly resilient emotion. It reminded him of the rain cycle. Everything would build and condense and suddenly it was all raining down on top of him, and when the clouds parted and he could see the sun again it was so easy to forget that the next storm was already brewing.

Oddly enough, on Makoto's stormy days, Haru was eerily silent. Makoto wouldn't have noticed, wrapped up snug in his own worries, if it weren't for the strange way Haru made up for his lack of words with his eyes.

Eye contact was a special intimacy Haru did not allow most people. Makoto did his best to encourage Haruka to lift his eyes, but for whatever reason Haru was very set on looking away. If Makoto was lucky enough to get Haru's full attention, it still felt like Haru was looking somewhere beyond him.

Makoto hated (read: loved) when Haru's eyes focused on his, so easily stealing his breath away. And when he blinked it seemed years had passed, and Haru had already moved on.

"Haru-chan?" Makoto said, closing his bedroom door behind them, voice cracking horribly. His face was burning but Haru was silent, eyes focusing carefully on his hands as he set his bag down.

"Yes?" He asked.

Makoto tried to keep the frown off his face. He let out an audible breath. "Haru-chan." He leaned into the name, stressed every syllable. Haru stilled, turned his head towards Makoto, but did not meet his eyes.

Makoto anxiously knelt beside his bed, rummaging underneath it for a moment. A noisy crinkling sound and Makoto was on his feet, shoving a brown paper bag into Haru's hands. He tried for a moment to wait for Haru's eyes, but the pounding in his heart made the wait too much and he gave up just as Haru looked up from the bag. Makoto's lips wobbled.

"Ha…" He gulped. "Happy Valentine's Day!" He smiled, something bittersweet in between his lips, on his tongue. He fought the heavy hope weighing his eyes down, fought it to meet Haru's.

Haru was stiff, bottom lip just slightly further out, thin fingers crunching the paper bag. Everything about him read confused, and Makoto couldn't even begin to hide the crushing disappointment. Perhaps if he explained the gift, Haru would understand?

"It's…" His voice shook. "Open it!" He said, smile wide.

Haru carefully uncurled the bag and dug his hand inside. He found several plastic bags full of…powder? Brown, and white, and- oh, they had labels written messily on masking tape across them.

"I thought-" Makoto sucked in a deep breath. "I wanted to, make you some chocolate?" His chest rose and fell with silent laughter. "B-But I'm a terrible cook, I thought, maybe, it would be even better if we made it…together?"

Makoto didn't remember the next few moments in great detail, and would avoid with everything he had to ever mention it. If he were to ever admit truthfully what happened, he'd simply say:

"Haru said no."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiatus is over!! And believe it or not, I will be finishing this fanfiction tonight HOWEVER I will not be posting it all at once (cackling in the distance). I'm guessing I'll end up with about 15 chapters, and I'm thinking I'll post a new chapter every other day. So yay. This chapter doesn't read all that well in my opinion but maybe I'm just thrown off by the change in POV.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	10. Cause and Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One can't ever make sense without the other.

Haruka shut himself away that night, not that it mattered. Makoto didn't follow.

He paced lazily around the wooden floors, like a ghost haunting his own home. He felt like his mind should be racing, but all that took hold of him was a tired guilt and absolute silence. He stopped in front of his grandmother's photo, lips pressed resolutely together.

He could hear her soft voice chiding him, she'd probably say something like,  _"Now Haruka, that wasn't very nice. Makoto put a lot of thought into that gift, why in the world did you not accept it?"_  and she would smile gently, take Haru's hands in her own.

Haruka's lip wobbled. He bit down on it, sniffing, and spoke to a grandmother he didn't truly believe could hear him.

"Valentine's Day is for  _romance_." Haruka whispered, a tear teetering on his eyelashes for what felt like eternity. He stilled his breath, waiting patiently for the tear to fall and didn't speak until it was safely dripping along his jaw. "It's for girls to give gifts to boys and then they get married and have kids and-a-and-!" Haruka's hands stayed lifeless at his sides. There was something comforting about the cool wetness of his tears, something healing to just let them fall as they may.

His knees shook as he slowly lowered himself to the ground, hugging his legs to his chest.

Makoto deserved better than Haruka. He deserved someone who could give him everything he needed. He deserved someone who could love him, wholly and truly. Haruka, regardless of the burning ache in his chest, could not ever be that person. His heart didn't work like that.

"I don't want to lead Makoto on." Haruka said, heart pounding but voice even, eyes empty.

" _What_ do _you want?"_

Haruka's lips parted. He hadn't ever assigned words to his desires. What did he want?

"I…don't want Makoto to leave."

" _I asked what you do want, not what you don't want."_

Haruka held Makoto's promise to stay by his side very seriously, but couldn't help feeling that Makoto probably didn't understand the significance of his words. Makoto was just being nice. Maybe, it was time Haruka made it clear.

Haruka pressed his shirt to face, mopping up his tears. His breath still caught on his teeth and stuck in his throat, but he was calming down.

"I want Makoto to stay, but only…if it makes him  _happy_."

Haruka didn't need the ghost of his grandmother's advice to know that was something Makoto needed to hear.


	11. Venn Diagram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course "apples" and "oranges" are synonymous.

It was disgustingly easy how Makoto brushed his pain away, kept it carefully hidden from Haruka. Nearly two weeks after Valentine's Day and neither had spoken a word about it. It was becoming increasingly clear that Makoto did not plan to address the issue, or even fully admit what he was feeling.

At one point in time, Haruka felt like he could always tell what Makoto was thinking. That sense of compatibility had long since been stripped from them, leaving Haruka anxious and guessing all the wrong things.

He wasn't exactly sure where the urgency for confrontation disappeared to, but as the days turned into months into years, it seemed to be eaten away by the present.

In the end, it was several years before either of them spoke of that Valentine's Day.

In the meantime, they were reunited with old friends, and made new ones too. It crossed Haruka's mind one more than one occassion to sit Makoto down, to talk about their relationship, but it never came to pass.

It was easy. It was enjoyable. Why ruin what worked so well just so Haruka could have a technical label for their relationship? Makoto promised not to leave him, maybe that could be enough.

If Haruka believed him, that is. If only doubt didn't fester inside him.

Haruka took his sweet time to carefully build up his courage, placing his thoughts, categorizing his words for the day he would finally confront Makoto. His efforts were feeble, however, as he built them on a shaky foundation that Rin was quick to dislodge, crushing all of his confidence in the process.

Pressed up against a fence, Rin's hands on either side of him, Haruka's thoughts raced.

He had missed Rin  _so_  much. Words could not adequately communicate the pain swelling in his heart, pumping through his veins. Rin was finally here, so close his breath caressed Haruka's cheek with every exhale.

Maybe… _too_  close.

Haruka wasn't sure what he'd said, what had led to it, but he couldn't forget how Rin eased forward. Haruka wondered if he and Rin were truly on bad terms, as Rin allowed him the delicacy reserved for loved ones and more chances to run than he could count. But Haruka wanted whatever Rin was offering him, in the moment he hadn't been completely aware of what was coming, but he wanted it.

And he'd never tell anyone how surprised he was by the softness of Rin's lips, or how they made Haruka feel rough and raw in comparison.

Rin pulled away abruptly, anger in his every movement. " _Whatever_." He spat the word as if it left a foul taste in his mouth, and Haruka was all too aware he'd done something wrong. Or perhaps, it was what he  _hadn't_  done.

It was a slow realization, not fully understood until Rin was long gone. Haruka had never been kissed before. And in his stupor, he'd let it pass him by without any involvement in what should have been a deeply intimate moment.

If Haruka were ever to be completely honest with himself, he might say he took Rin's kiss in a mad attempt to regain some sense of normalcy. His entire foundation had been in shambles long before Rin had returned, perhaps even before he'd met Rin in the first place. Haruka was desperate for more than just a way to understand himself, he was desperate for a way to relate to others. Rin's kiss had done neither of those things for him and instead confused what little pieces of himself he thought he knew.

He felt so far away from himself, it barely registered when he heard familiar voices calling out to him.

Rin was like some kind of terrifying crystal ball into his future with Makoto, a perfect example of what would happen to Makoto if Haruka committed to needs he couldn't meet.

And just like every time before, Haruka dropped all plans of revealing his feelings to Makoto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up, very soon, this fic will intersect with (and leave behind) the events in my other Free! fanfiction Leading the Lost Pilotfish. If you haven't read that, you might be the tiniest bit lost (or at least, you won't feel the weight of some of the dialogue to come). I'm really excited to show the impact Nitori has on Haru, it's something I wanted to make very apparent many months back when I was writing LTLPF. Oh! And, I originally planned for this fic to have less of a continuous plot but. It kind of took on a life of it's own! So no, there won't be any other pairings addressed in this particular fic.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	12. Pressure Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something beautiful about spider cracks in glass hearts.

Makoto was weary when he heard the over excited stage whispers of his first year friends, and even more weary when all three of them quickly fell silent as he shut the club room door behind him. Makoto slowly shrugged off his jacket, raising an eyebrow, hoping an explanation was on its way. Nagisa's frown was impressive for sure, but the uncomfortable look on Rei's face and the way Kou clutched her arm, eyes on the ground, made the worry brewing in the back of Makoto's mind much more real.

Nagisa groaned, shaking like he might explode. He threw his hands up into the air.

"We  _have_  to tell him!" Nagisa shouted, gesturing to Makoto.

"Wha-" Makoto tried to interject, but Kou shook her head and stamped her foot.

"I said  _no_! I shouldn't have told  _you_  guys so I definitely can't tell Makoto-senpai!" She yelled back.

Rei grimaced as the two continued their yelling match on either sides of him. Makoto pitied him, really.

"Oi, oi!" Makoto spoke strongly, putting an end to Nagisa and Kou's bickering. He sighed, looking back and forth between the two. "What's this all about?" He asked. They winced in unison, and Makoto couldn't hope to prepare himself for what they had to say.

"Haruka-senpai…" Kou started.

It was amazing how long a single moment could drag on, ice in his veins and ribs tight.

"…Rin kissed him!"

Nagisa's shrill voice rung through Makoto's head, but he couldn't be sure how long he stood there, expression blank and breath still. Nagisa and Kou shared a worried glance, enough of a stir in his environment for Makoto to snap back to his senses and assure them he was fine.

They were far from convinced, but had no time to force the truth out of Makoto as the door opened once more and Haruka carefully sat his things down.

And Makoto was so very far from fine, but he led himself to believe it didn't matter.

So what if Makoto had to be told about his best friend's affections for someone else behind his back? It wasn't like Makoto had made it obvious how much he care about Haru, it wasn't like Haru had done much to dissuade him. It wasn't like Haru had encouraged him, not at all.

It made sense, really. Haru hadn't been the same since Rin left. It always seemed as if there was some kind of hole in his heart, though Makoto felt unsure. Haruka kept those thoughts to himself.

Makoto wanted to be happy for his friend, but the pain of being strung along for so many years was devastating.

Lying awake in bed that night, a memory resurfaced of a bag of cocoa powder.

He had been nothing but a hopeful fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ur gettin 4 chapters today chumps. [sorry for all the e-mails you'll get if you're following this story ahah]
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	13. Belated Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mend the cracks with gold.

Haruka couldn't possibly ignore the storm that had been consuming Makoto for nearly three days, but confrontation was still a shock of anxiety Haruka wasn't sure he was ready to face.

In the end, it was by complete accident that Haruka tripped over into Makoto's threshold and well beyond his breaking point.

Makoto's voice was a bit meeker than usual when he asked to spend time with Haruka that day. In fact, Makoto had stopping asking years ago, the fact that he felt the need to ask at all was alarming. They walked home from school in eerie silence, words on the tip of their tongues but neither spoke.

Once behind his front door, Haruka went straight to the kitchen. He immediately turned on a burner and filled his tea pot with water, placing it safely atop the heating element. Something between them was stressed and aching, whether Haruka realized it or not, and a cup of tea was the only solution he could think of.

Makoto watched him for a moment, leaned against a wall, eyes on the floor.

"Are you okay?"

Haruka said it without thinking, and when he saw the entirety of Makoto's large frame shudder, he knew he'd gone somewhere he could never return from. Makoto raised his eyes very slowly, his gaze steady, intent. He pinched his eyebrows, everything about him seemed to cave in.

"Are you asking because you want to know, or are you're being polite?" He asked.

"What?" Haruka asked. He wrinkled his nose, grimacing as though he could smell the rot rising from unearthed pain that had long since been buried. Makoto let out a heavy sigh, dropping eye contact.

"I heard you kissed Rin."

His voice filled every crack in Haruka's head, and brought time to a standstill. His mind rushed with hundreds of words and millions of sentences, but his tongue felt heavy and uncooperative. He guessed at least a minute passed before he could take a deep enough breath to respond at all.

"Makoto I-"

" _Don't_ , Haru." Makoto interrupted. Haruka wished Makoto would keep his eyes on the floor because when he looked up, what Haruka knew had once been a vibrant emerald iris was now dull and lifeless. "It's okay, I understand." He said. Haruka shook his head.

"I'm not sure you do." He said.

"You're in love with Rin, I get it,  _really_  I do." He said, his tone clipped, eyebrows easing into a glare (which Haruka gladly returned).

"I am  _not_  in love with Rin!" He said. Laughter bubbled in Makoto's throat.

"Stop being difficult, it's  _obvious_." He said.

"If I were in love with anyone, it wouldn't be Rin." Haruka said, jaw tight.

"I just wish," Makoto sighed. "You would have told me. I only found out because Kou accidentally saw you two." He shrugged.

Haruka was panicking.

"You're not  _listening_." He said, taking a step forward. Haruka could see the shout boiling in Makoto's mouth before he even spoke, he could see and now he knew for certain he'd crossed the line.

"Does it actually  _matter_  if I listen _?"_

The slow boil of the tea pot erupted into a screaming whistle behind them as Haruka stared, lips parted and eyes wide. It went on for several minutes before Haruka even recognized the sound and quickly pulled the pot off the burner. Makoto took the chance to grab his things, not two steps towards the door and Haruka was pulling on his sleeve.

"Makoto,  _please_ -"

Makoto ripped his arm from Haruka's grasp, facing him with the full fury of a grown man.

"No, you  _please!_ " He said. "You can't make me believe for one second that you don't know how I feel about you, and you still went behind my back to make out with Rin."

"I never made out with anyone!" Haruka defended himself, hands shaking, tears welling. He hadn't wanted this, he wasn't ready to deal with this. Years of pent up hurt between the both of them, and neither had any idea of how to cope with it any longer.

"I-I'm not in love with Rin-" Haruka persisted. "I'm-" He gulped, face flushed. "If I were in love with anyone, it wouldn't- i-it would be you!" He was yelling and shaking and not entirely aware of what he was saying.

Makoto lowered himself to eye level and spat a dry HAH in Haruka's face.

"Do you think I'm  _stupid_  Haru, is that it?" He asked. Haruka tried to protest but Makoto barreled on without pause. "Do you remember the Valentine's Day I gave you a present?" He asked, anger quickly trickling out of his voice leaving behind quiet melancholy on his lips. "I thought long and hard about it, I knew people were bothering you about not wanting chocolate. I thought, this is my chance to show Haru how much I really care about him, this is my chance to show how strong our friendship has grown." Makoto's voice shook. "And you wouldn't even take it, never told me why."

They looked, long and hard, they looked at eachother.

"And now you want me to believe that you love me?" Makoto bit down on his bottom lip, shook his head. "No." He turned to leave, but Haruka grasped his sleeve once more.

"That Valentine's Day-!" He spit the words out, breathless and near tears. Makoto stopped, hesitantly turning his head ever so slightly toward Haruka. It was hard to keep the ugly hurt off his face, and in the end only encouraged his tears further. So with a scrunched nose, rosey cheeks, and tears rolling down his face, Haruka finally explained what should have been said so many years ago.

Makoto's bag slid further and further down his shoulder as he listened to Haruka spill every insecurity he'd been keeping to himself, carefully filling in the gaps in Makoto's perspective.

Do you remember when I threw that dictionary? Do you remember when I spent Christmas with you? Do you remember when I was sick and you took care of me?

His speech was riddled with pauses and cracked words, backtracking and constant fumbling of his thoughts. However badly he butchered his retelling, it seemed no bother to Makoto. Anger and hurt were nowhere to be found on him. He looked as gentle, as safe, as he always had been. And when Makoto spoke, he fought tears. When he spoke, they both were sobbing.

Do you remember when I held your hand when we were kids? Do you remember when I promised to never leave you? Do you remember when I skipped school to take care of you?

There had not been a single second of Haruka's struggle that Makoto had not been struggling as well.

"Everything that's happened…" Makoto said, and there was something special in the way he neglected Haruka eye contact in favor of staring at his hands. He shook his head. "I promised I wouldn't leave, Haruka. And I really,  _really_  meant it." He said. Haruka's fingers felt electrified under Makoto's gaze. They twitched slightly, yearning to move forward. The small jolt of his hand was more than enough of an invitation for Makoto. Without a word he grasped Haruka's hands, held them snug.

"Even if-" Haruka's voice was low, quiet, and above all else, terrified. "I can't. I won't-" His mouth hung open as he searched for the right phrasing, hunted for words he was willing to admit to.

"I don't need sex, Haru." Makoto said tugging on his hands. "I don't need romance, what I need is  _you_." He said, head lowered, eyes shyly peeking out from behind his bangs.

"I've  _hurt_  you already though." He said, inching away, fingers loose in Makoto's hands.

"I've hurt you too." Makoto sighed, holding onto Haruka's limp hands. "It wasn't either of our faults and it had nothing to do with sex or romance." He said, a soft laughter spilling out of his mouth. "Maybe I'm just too blinded by love, I'm not sure anymore. I was beginning to think, you really didn't care about me." His lips trembled as he spoke. "I thought, maybe somehow I'd gotten it wrong. That you weren't the person I thought you were." He sniffed. "We're both idiots, aren't we?" He laughed.

Both of them were covered in tears as Haruka barreled into Makoto, wrapping his arms snug around his chest. Makoto was quick to return the embrace, burying his nose in Haruka's hair.

"Are we…boyfriends…?" Haruka asked, his head absolutely spinning. Makoto surfaced from Haruka's silky hair, resting his chin atop his head.

"Maybe." He said, drawing the word out along with his slow thoughts. "I bet there's a better word out there for what we have. And if there's not, maybe, we can make one...?

Haruka was dizzy with the sudden relief of years of built up tension. The death grip he'd kept around his heart was gone, and the rush of blood would have been enough to send a lesser man into shock. From what he could tell from the way Makoto was leaning against Haruka, Makoto was feeling much the same way.

It was the first step they'd taken towards healing in far too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that fight was as satisfying for you readers as it was for me to write. (who's hoping for an emotional fight between Makoto and Haruka in season 2 anybody? Just me?)
> 
> Fun fact, "mend the cracks with gold" is my play on kintsugi, the art of fixing broken pottery with gold. It's an interesting spin the on image of "a heart of gold".
> 
> FoxyGrampaGlasses


	14. Hero's Hero's Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sense of safety is a group effort.

Rin was the only one Haruka told about his relationship with Makoto. He kept it vague, but made it clear that they were exclusive. He figured Rin deserved to know.

Rin kept his distance for some time, a month or two maybe, but the friendship they'd kindled had come to life anew and neither could deny it. Rin took his time to come to terms with it, and found that was the best thing he'd ever done for himself.

Haruka became a safe place for Rin to ponder his heart, and the same could be said of Haruka with Rin.

Despite Rin's badgering, Haruka didn't want to out himself. Makoto, rest his soul, gave Haruka the power to make that decision when he was ready. It didn't seem to particularly bother Makoto either way, but Haruka wondered what Makoto's smile would look like if he ever allowed him to live openly.

Haruka felt calmer when Rin started dating Nitori, hopeful even.

As their relationship unfolded, however, all Haruka could see were their long list of deficits. He saw the way Rin misunderstood, and how Nitori let things go. He saw how Rin clung to fear and was horrified by how Nitori seemingly stomped right through all of his own fears.

Haruka had assumed Nitori was something bolder, something unshakeable. He had expected unbounding confidence hidden behind Nitori's stuttering and crumpled body language. One conversation between them while watching the sun rise, and Haruka had every assumption proven to be nothing but fanciful fiction.

Haruka had expected someone greater than himself, but Nitori was all too ordinary.

He was nervous, emotional, and so much more open with himself. He walked and breathed in and out. To Haruka's dismay, Nitori was completely and utterly  _human_. It was mind blowing that someone, just a regular person, could smile in the face of worldwide discrimination. Haruka was watching these super human feats performed by the most average person he knew from the crack in his closet door.

Nitori was nothing short of a hero to Haruka that graced him with the courage to finally find his voice.

When Haruka finally sat Makoto down to talk about it, something that could have taken less than a full sentence to explain, he found himself silent. It took Makoto a full hour, even with his saintly love and patience, to ease it out of Haruka.

"I think…the Christmas party would be…a good time to tell everyone." Haruka said, eyes sliding to the floor. He wasn't even looking at Makoto, but he could  _feel_  the warmth of the smiling burning on his partner's face.

"Haru-chan!" Makoto gasped, the slightest blush on his cheeks. "Are you-are you sure?" He asked, a hand over his mouth as he quickly tried to back track over his excitement. Haruka smiled, small and shy. He nodded his head.

If Nitori could be out, then so could Haruka. After all, he wouldn't be doing this alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you remember in LTLPF, Haruka's talk with Nitori was a big inspiration for Nitori. The little things we do to fight to be ourselves often has a much greater impact than we're ever aware of.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


	15. Endings of Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And how many words have you traversed to be able to say this is the end?

Sun fell down on Haruka, bathing him in the smell of summer and a sense of calm. Salty sea air and distant laughter was the soundtrack for the day, and while Haruka would rather be inside drawing or swimming, sitting with Nitori had been surprisingly rewarding. He smiled wistfully, watching the rest of their group playing volleyball a few yards out.

Makoto caught Haruka's gaze right after a hard spike, his hand still in the air, he waved bashfully. Haruka waved back, a hand over his mouth to hide his chuckle. He shook his head, turning back to Nitori.

"And that's how we got together." He said, shrugging. Nitori had absolute stars twinkling in his teary eyes, fists pressed to his chest.

" _Haruka-senpai that was beautiful_." He said in a broken, slurred mess of a sentence. Haruka rolled his eyes.

"I guess." He said, tapping a finger on the pad of drawing paper he'd brought with him. Nitori shook his head, leaning forward.

"No really, it is!" He argued.

Haruka nodded, who was he to argue with Nitori?

He was more than a little surprised when the boy had asked about Makoto, specifically, how they got together. Those struggles seemed very distant from him now, and it took him several minutes to find the starting point for his story. Haruka did his best not to point out how silly he thought Nitori looked with his face stiff and serious, he was just so darn eager to listen. Other than Makoto, most people didn't seek Haruka out for any kind of extended conversation (which to be fair, was probably because Haruka wouldn't give it to them). It was nice.

Healing wounds of the past had only been the start of something much longer between himself and Makoto. Establishing a committed relationship had put much of Haruka's worries to rest, but not all of them of course and Makoto's storms still came and went.

Coming out to their friends had been the next consuming topic in their relationship, a chapter they had finally closed. He doubted Nitori understood just how much he had done for Haruka's confidence, but Haruka did his best to convey his gratitude nonetheless. They didn't know each other terribly well, but it was clear to Haruka they had a bond of sorts. Perhaps that was the only reason he agreed to sit with Nitori.

"I've said it before, but thank you." Haruka said, meeting Nitori's shimmering eyes, wide as they could go. His eyes darted around nervously before settling back on Haruka.

"I-I really didn't-I mean-I'm not-" Nitori shook his head as he babbled, took a breath to find his resolve, and finally accepted Haruka's compliment with a forced effort.

If not for Nitori, Haruka wasn't sure he ever would have been brave enough to live openly. He never would have tried to explain his relationship to Rin, and he never would have learned about asexuality and the romantic spectrum. Most importantly, he would have never seen the dazzling difference in Makoto's smile now that he didn't have to hide.

Haruka owed Nitori the world, but he was certain Nitori would simply hand it right. He'd probably say "Makoto-senpai would appreciate this more than I could, you should give it to him."

And so Haruka planned to do exactly that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be exactly ONE MORE chapter in this fanfiction. I will probably post it Friday. I hope you all enjoyed it, and if you did, you should tell me! Hah. Oh, and critiques! I welcome critiques as well.
> 
> -FoxyGrampaGlasses


End file.
